Where Have You Gone, Chip Ambres?

This started out as one of those games where there was enough goofy stuff happening that it was going to be one of those Chip Ambres games where someone was going to be a late hero for one of those 9-8 contests.

Instead, the Mets never got to that point because they can't hit Hong-Chih Kuo. Let's review for a second: Hong-Chih Kuo, lifetime, was 3-11 with an ERA of close to 5 going in. Any guesses as to who two of those three career wins came against?

That's correct: your New York Mets.

Of course, it wouldn't have mattered if the Mets would have capitalized on some of their opportunities in the early innings ... like when they had a 3-0 lead and Ryan Church up with the bases loaded and nobody out in the second, and Church then hits into a double play and all bets are off. I think by the time Moises Alou stole home in the third on a double steal, the Mets had already stranded something like 35 runners in scoring position.

But Kuo coming in and looking like Carl Hubbell is just freakin' mind boggling. Mind boggling! And worse, it gave me the clarity to notice more things that I can complain about:

• Maybe all the Dodger nostalgia during the broadcasts are a coincidence. But in this world of heightened conspiracy alerts, it's a darn tootin' coincidence that all of these vignettes crop up considering that the president of the Brooklyn Dodgers secret society owns the team. I mean, the opening game of the series is one thing. But the nostalgia was in full force tonight too. The Giants are the only N.L. team with more hall of famers than the Dodgers. Any chance we'll get some Candlestick Park memories when the Mets go up north later in the year?
• I love Ron Darling. But stop with these damn Sovereign Bank commercials after every inning! The trees look like they're on fire and it's freaking me out!
• Is it me, or did David Wright look exhausted when there were two outs and nobody on when the camera cut to him in the dugout? Was it all those sparkling plays in the field he made (sandwiched between the throw he made that landed somewhere in El Segundo) that made him tired? Or was it hopelessness? And if it was hopelessness, how did the rest of the dugout look?
• I love Luis Castillo. Not like I love Ron Darling, but I'm a fan. And I'm pleased as punch he got his first hit in 85 at bats tonight. But a lollipop slider to end the game? Really, Luis? You know, protecting the plate is more than just for dinner, Luis.

But more than all of that, Hong-Chih Kuo just ticks me off. Three wins now out of four career coming against the Mets. More proof that this is how the season is going to go: Just good enough to keep us hopeful (two wins against Arizona), just bad enough to drive us nuts (Hong-Chih Kuo.)

It occurs to me that I've been going about this Aaron Heilman thing all wrong. Instead of complaining about him at every turn, I'm going to start my "Aaron Heilman Initiative". Meaning: When Heilman comes into a game, instead of watching the game and having complaints at the ready, I'm going to perform a good deed. So even when Heilman has a bad outing, some good will have come of it. For example, when Heilman entered the game tonight, I washed the dishes. So if Heilman had spit the bit, at least some good will have come of it. If everyone took part in the "Aaron Heilman Initiative", think of the good we can do as a society! One person does dishes. One person helps an old lady across the street. One person donates ten dollars to North Shore Animal League. We can actually turn society around instead of just sitting around complaining. And if Heilman has a good outing as he did tonight (two scoreless innings ... and in a close game no less), then everyone wins!

Grey Dawn

After a seventeen inning game, while throwing a pitcher making his first start back from injury, not much could have really been expected, so the All-Star break comes at a wonderful time for the Mets to rest their old bones.

Old bones which seemingly are getting older at an exponential rate.

If you missed it: Ricky Ledee was designated for assignment to make room for Dave Williams, who was the sacrificial lamb on Sunday for the Mets (although when you walk the opposing pitcher and giving up a dinger to a .228 hitter, most likely, you are sacrificing your own lamb). While Ledee may not be any great shakes, the man who got a reprieve on the roster is yet another quadragenarian, Sandy Alomar Jr, a catcher who supposedly gives the Mets more flexibility on the bench.

But only when full containers of Icy Hot are applied.

It's probably going to be a non-issue when guys like Lastings Milledge, Jorge Sosa, and Oliver Perez come back (and heck, maybe if we're good boys and girls, even Moises Alou will take a trip down the chimney to give all of us orange and blue boys and girls an early Christmas gift...although Moises will probably tear a labrum while handing the gifts out). But does it bother anyone else that Julio Franco (forget his weight, the guy is lucky that he's hitting his age) is taking up a roster spot that is probably better served by going to Ledee, who at least can pull the ball and can move around?

And most likely, nobody is going to pick up Ricky Ledee from under our noses, but what if someone does? What if the Royals, still stinging from not getting Milton Bradley, decide that Ledee is the answer to their problems? Maybe that's the scenario of a habitual weed smoker, but stranger things have happened, right? What if we lose Ledee? I mean, they'll survive, but what will it have been for? To get Sandy Alomar Jr. one last hurrah to be a battery mate with a minor league teammate that he never actually caught? Is that what it's come to? Have the Mets become the home of the farewell tour? Is Cher playing Shea Stadium next week? Since when have the Mets become Robin Williams in that movie about the kid that aged like 10 years every 12 months?

And Julio, for Pete Schourek's sake, hang it up! Look, I'm all for athletes hanging it up on their own terms as long as it remains fun. But Julio, you're Jake Taylor in Major League II, except nobody has the guts to pull you into a room and tell you that you'd be more useful as a coach than a player because it not only might alienate the locker room, but they're afraid that God will smite them for pushing an old man out the door before his contract was up. Who knows, as a coach you might have to take over for Willie Randolph before the end of the season, just like Taylor had to take over for Lou Brown. Randolph is undergoing shoulder surgery...what if there's complications? What if they find Bill Pulsipher's bone chips and Victor Zambrano's frayed ligaments and Randolph has to be locked up in a hospital room until Christmas for his own protection? Then what?

Now that Mark Buehrle is off the market, the moves that Omar Minaya may be relegated to are the ones to shore up the back end of the team...the bench and the middle relief. Maybe a guy like Jeff Conine, who needs to be rescued from the Reds who are currently rotting from the inside out, is Omar's best option for the bench. But he can't, because he's afraid that you, Julio, will sneak into his office and put rubber bands where his paper clips should be. Nobody should live their lives in fear. But that's what's happening, because you want to be Minnie Minoso on a pennant contender.

Look, hard times call for hard words. Julio, you deserve a World Series ring. You deserve credit for turning Carlos Beltran's New York career around in '06, along with saving Pedro Martinez's life from the bat-wielding Jose Guillen. But you've become like the kids in the playground playing five-on-five baseball and only using half the field...but you're using the wrong half of the field. If you were that kid, you'd keep hitting foul balls all day and the game would never end. Instead, you make games end too quick by grounding to second base.

Dude, you're older than dirt, stone tablets, and Howard Johnson!

Chip Ambres is sticking pins in your doll!

When you were a rookie, Transformers was a television show. Now it's a movie, and you're still playing...although not in your Optimus Prime. So please, show us the person you are and consider what I'm saying...and make us see more than your .200 average. Show us you're more than meets the eye.